As the light grows dim
by Mettemorphose
Summary: What happens when someone who's lost everything bumps into someone who seems to have everything? I'm not really a Hayeffie shipper, but it seemed like such a good idea at 3 o clock last night, so I wrote this spicy piece of oneshot.


"Haymitch, would you join me for a second?" Effie's high pitched voice cut through that perfect moment right before you go into sleep mode and you get to play with your dreams so vividly it seems real. He tried to ignore her, but that's clearly not a plan she thinks anything off and soon his already fading image of a beautiful, but faceless woman is replaced by Effie Trinket. He never really did know what to think of that lady. He had come to respect her after the first few years of working with her, since he had done everything to make her job uncomfortable. But at some point it just seemed unnecessary. She looked like she was perfectly fit to criticize herself when she was alone and the muffled screams he sometimes heard when the train was exceptionally quiet always threw of his initial hatred for her and all that she stood for.

"What do _you _want?" He arose from the couch where the sweetness of a good nap had been so close and looked around the room. For a second he'd quite forgotten where they were.

"You need to get dressed and go talk to sponsors, Haymitch. Miss Everdeen is stuck in a tree,"

"What time is it?"

"Around noon," she replied and swiftly walked over to the dresser where she kept his clothes while he was here. Haymitch looked for the nearest bottle of alcohol, but she'd packed them all away in the liquor cabinet across the room and he knew he'd never get past her to get it. Instead he grumbled and looked at the television where Katniss was the screen star right now. Good, he thought, maybe he should really go get some sponsors. It was like she was reading his aching head when she put down a tray with a glass of water and two Capitol-created red pills he knew where hangover demolishers. Next to the tray she put a clean, white shirt and a blue tie.

"Thanks mom," He said mockingly, but as he saw the faint sadness in her eyes he regret even opening his mouth.

"Could you at least try saving this one, Haymitch? She seemed nice,"

"Anything for you, sweetheart," He shook his head and took the pills dry.

He began unbuttoning his shirt and Effie looked away. He laughed harshly at her as he saw her blushing even through the heavy make-up.

"Don't tell me you're one of those girls as well, Trinks,"

"I'm not used to…" Her voice trailed off.

"Help me with this will you? My shoulder still hurts from when I bumped it into that … Yeah, whatever," He stood with his arms in the correct position for taking of the dirty light green shirt she'd laid out for him yesterday, but somehow he couldn't manage to get it all the way off, stopped by a spike of pain going through a sore shoulder. He heard her take a deep breath. They'd been through stuff like this before. She had held his hair back when he was vomiting often enough. Maybe even seen him naked when the ordering the poor avoxes to wash him off before getting him to bed. But never had she needed to be close to him when doing that.

"Didn't you want those sponsors, Trinks?" He asked impatient and she took another one of those deep, preparing breaths like an athlete going for the gold. She helped him into the shirt and put on his tie after he'd buttoned himself up twice, he did it wrong on purpose the first time.

"Please don't call me that," she suddenly said after a while.  
"What?" He asked as he was tying his shoes.

"Trinks… It sounds so…"

"I find it cute, yeah… Now that I think about it, maybe you're not worthy of it," He left her with only a small grin as a goodbye.

On his way to the elevator he thought of what had just happened. Her blushing and all. He laughed a bit for himself, but the silliness quickly turned to a sort of desperate chuckle. His mind was deceiving him so much right now. There had been times where he felt as if he owed that woman something, but right now he felt he had to go back an apologize for everything. Calling her those names. Not just that pet name 'Trinks', but all the others as well. Some of them were not really what he'd describe as 'cute'.

It had been surprisingly easy to get sponsors for some ointment to treat the burn on Katniss' leg. He felt a weird pride about getting it done and a part of him couldn't _wait_ to tell Effie about it. He had hardly been drinking too. The sounds around him as he walked back to the training centre was much clearer than they usually were when he was half unconscious from drinking. He tried to imagine what she'd say to him when he got back. If she would be pleased by him. She had probably already seen it, the little parachute landing neatly on the branch a little higher than the girl. He imagined her face, smiling. She was actually pretty when she smiled without trying too hard. He shook his head as to confuse his brain and get that thought out. He was way too sober to be thinking Effie Trinket was pretty.

"You did absolutely lovely," she praised him. He realized how often she actually did that, even – well mostly – when he didn't deserve it. She'd changed into a house robe and he saw that her wig was slightly askew. She had not counted on him coming home yet, maybe not even tonight. He wouldn't have, he found, if it weren't for her and his urgent need to tell her that he did it. He did what he wanted, so now they were even in his mind. He would have loved to believe that himself, but he knew one thing. Even though he probably would never be nice to her without covering it in so much sarcasm she wouldn't know it, she would always tend to him and make sure he did what he was supposed to. There was a kind of reassurance in that, which he couldn't name even if he wanted to. He noticed he had had his eyes fastened on her face for quite some time now and that she was looking back at him with a puzzled look in her eyes.

"Are you okay?" she asked when she noticed him pulling his eyes from her.

"Yeah, just spazzed out there for a second," He wondered how she looked without the lip colour.

"Oh,"

"Did you see her get the parachute?" Suddenly talking to Effie was awkward.

"Those are my favourite moments of the games," Effie confessed and he saw that blush again, that made her look 10 times more real, than the porcelain doll-look she normally sported.

"Really? I thought everybody here just waited for the bloody deaths," He was genuinely surprised at her outburst.

Even more surprised was he, when he found himself taking her hand. It was like watching a scene from a movie. In slow motion. From an outside perspective. The safety. It was the safety he wanted. He had not touched another human being by free will in a long time, not like this. Handshakes were one thing.

"Why don't you hate me?" He asked silently with the most sincere voice he had ever heard himself use.

"Why do you hate me?" She asked back at him, though she did not move her hand, actually he thought he felt her shift so she leaned in closer to him.

"Nah, I don't hate you, Trinks… Sorry," He felt bad, but he also kind of felt good. Her hand felt so soft and delicate in his. It somehow felt right.

"It's okay when you say it like that Haymitch. Your usual tone is so… Rough,"

"Yeah, I don't always treat you right," He admitted.

"I quite like the sobered up you, I'm talking to right now," she said with one of those little smiles that made the real woman shine through. She had a slight gap between her button front teeth. He didn't know what to say, but it didn't take him long to calculate the chances of what he was thinking about doing. He had kept the memory of the death of all his loved ones away from him with drinking. If this went wrong it'd just be another name on the list. He had nothing to lose and with that in mind he leaned down and kissed her.

At first she pulled away from him with surprise, not the disgust he expected, but simply shock. Then she replied by kissing him back. He opened his eyes to see she was changed. Her eyes had another spark in them. Lust. Passion even. She obviously wasn't shy about him unbuttoning his shirt anymore, because she was trying very hard herself to get the thing of him. He had not thought this through to this point. He was just trying to steal a kiss and get a slap for it, but this was like taking candy from a baby and then landing a date with the hot mother.

Instead of just going for the robe he went for what he was really curios about, the wig. He had been looking at that thing for so long and always wondered if she even had hair under it. She didn't stop him, so he slid it off her head revealing short, slightly curly strawberry blonde hair. It reminded him of pictures he'd seen back when his television worked and was on at all times to give him an illusion of company. One night he'd laid in bed and stared at the screen and something called History of Humans came on showing pictures and videos from before the Dark Days and before everything went to shit. Those actresses and song stars from over two hundred years ago seemed to live on in her. Classic beauty.

"Why do you hide that?" he asked perplexed and she froze with her movements, her hands on his chest.

"Isn't it obvious?" she replied with a tiny, insecure voice. Some Capitol women were trending with their own natural hair, he'd seen the commercials in between the games and on bus stops.

"You're very pretty without this … rat," He threw the wig on the floor and ran a hand through her real hair. It was so soft to the touch he wondered if it was really growing from her head. She never said anything more and just went back to caressing him, kissing her way down his chest towards where his hard-on began to stir and roar for her.

"Trinks, Effie, this … this wasn't really…" He did not want her to stop, but the relatively sober Haymitch actually also cared a bit about the feelings of people around him and he would never forgive himself if he hurt her or made her do something she'd regret. _But you can drink it away…_ the tiny voice inside his head said. _You can drink everything away once it's over. You know you'll never get to do it again, anyway. This is your chance. _The voice was interrupted by a sudden feeling of warmth in his groin area. He looked down and saw that she had closed her lips around him.

Everything went fast from that point. Her house robe fell to the floor in a pool around her feet and revealed some very plain underwear. He didn't know what he'd expected, maybe feathers and glitter? This was a pleasant surprise though. He liked it. She seemed nervous to show herself to him, but his calloused hands on her soft skin, peeling of the remainder of her clothing, was enough to convince her to sit down, one leg on each side of him and kiss him deeply. It wasn't as messy as it was passionate. Haymitch felt as if he'd known her as a lover for many, many years. His hands guided themselves to the places they had to be and when they finally laid down, him on top of her, he knew just the rhythm and depth that made her moan almost instantly. It didn't take long for both of them to reach climax, her a little before him.

The next day was likely one of the most awkward breakfasts he would ever experience, though he had taken a few shots of liquor to calm his nerves. He'd left her last night. Cinna looked at him shortly and went back to talking to Portia about something, while an avox placed a stack of pancakes in front of him. Haymitch sat down in his seat and took a bread roll from the basket on the table.

"Did you sleep well, Haymitch?" Cinna asked after a mysterious silence fell over the table. Effie stared down into her scrambled egg and didn't say a word, which was very unusual for her. Haymitch took a small sip of orange juice and was reminded once again how it didn't work well on the roughness of his tongue after drinking.

"I slept just fine," He tried keeping up his usual bitter voice, but it was hard trying to figure out how he usually were, when all he wanted to do was throw Cinna and Portia out and just stare at Effie until something happened.

"What about you, Effie, darling. You seem so out of it today," Portia chimed in. Haymitch caught Cinna's eyes and he knew. He knew they knew. They were just playing around with them until one of them admitted to it. Was it that painfully obvious?

Haymitch regarded Effie as she looked up. He caught a glimpse of a love bite he distinctively remembered leaving on her last night, before she covered it with the turquoise neckband.

"I'm just a little weary after all the drama yesterday with Miss Everdeen. I really thought we lost her," she stuttered blushing through her white foundation. She looked at Haymitch for the first time today with a begging look in her eyes. Make them stop, it said.

"You take care of her, Haymitch. You deserve way less," Cinna said while Portia and Effie had left the table to watch the recap of the night's events. The canon had sounded, but Haymitch had been too tired and confused last night to care about it, even if it was Katniss who died. Him and Cinna had never clicked. Even though he thought he'd like Cinna, being very un-Capitol and stuff, he just couldn't take the man's dedication to everything he did.

"I know," Haymitch let the words out as one 'innow' in a deep growling whisper.

"And next time, please don't leave your clothes in the living area,"

"There won't be a next time, Cinna, Trinks and I are not…" Haymitch objected in a flat tone of voice. Her face at breakfast had been enough to convince him of that.

"You don't leave a woman like that and just dump her, Haymitch,"

"Like what? She's too embarrassed about it to even look at me," Haymitch got up.

"She's in love with you," Cinna said just before Haymitch reached the door to his room. He stopped for a second, but didn't turn around.

The liquor ran down his throat, calming him down. He heard a knock on the door. Before she opened he knew who it was. He smiled as the door swung open.

"Hi Trinks," he said and made room for her on the bed beside him.


End file.
